Throttle shrugged then opened the pickup's door. "Well, I gotta get going. I wanna stop by and pick up some vodka coolers." He laughed when he saw Rags grimace. "Yeah, she likes that shit. Hell, I'd buy her flavored whiskey if it got my dick between her tits."
Rags cuffed him on the shoulder. "Have a good time. You can let me know if buying the horse piss for the chick was worth it or not."
"With the way she sways those hips, I'd say it's gonna be worth it. See ya."
Rags nodded then jumped on his Harley and rode away before Throttle settled in the driver's seat. He switched on the ignition, and as he threw the truck in gear, his phone buzzed.
"Hello?"
"Hiya, sexy. You still comin' to the diner after my shift?"
"Hey. Yeah, I'm comin'. I'll be by for dinner."
"I thought we had a date," Big Tits whined.
"We do, but I gotta eat. After dinner, we'll go for a ride and have a few drinks. What's your favorite flavor?"
"Blueberry." He heard her clucking her tongue. "So you're gonna take me for a ride on your Harley?" Excitement laced her voice.
"Nope. I'm bringing my truck." There was no way the waitress was getting her ass anywhere near his bike. Throttle never let chicks on the back of his bike. And if he ever did, it sure in hell wouldn't be a citizen who didn't know the difference between a Harley and a rice burner. No fucking way.
"Your pickup?" Her voice dripped with disappointment.
"Yeah." He actually felt bad for being such a bastard. "The Harley's in the shop," he lied.
"Oh," she said, her voice perking up. "I'll take a raincheck on that ride, then. When you get it back, let me know."
There isn't gonna be a next time. This is strictly a one-time deal. "Sounds good."
"So, what time you comin' by?"
"Around seven thirty."
"I'll plan my break about that time. I get off at nine o'clock."
"I better get going.
"Okay. I can't wait for when you come. This is gonna be fun."
Fuckin' right it is. I can't wait to bury my dick between your tits. "See you."
He tossed his phone on the passenger seat, cranked up the radio, and headed to the liquor store.
* * *
Big Tits was at his side the minute he entered Ruthie's Diner. Her white uniform with the pink piping stretched across her ample breasts. She smiled widely at him and leaned in, saying in a low voice, "You look real good." She ran her long fingernail up his arm.
Damn, she's fuckin' ready. Those nails are gonna feel real good scratching my back while I fuck her hard. "You look good too," he replied, his eyes fixed on her chest.
She inhaled deeply and arched her back a bit, thrusting her breasts closer to him. "Thanks," she breathed.
"Smells good in here." He moved away from her and walked to a booth by the window.
"Meatloaf's the special tonight. It's really good. You want that, handsome?"
He nodded as he scoured the menu. "Bring me a salad to start-ranch dressing. You gonna join me?" He looked up and his gaze fell on her nametag-Peggy. That's right. Her name's Peggy.
"I can join you in twenty minutes. Crystal called off for swing shift." She tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "She's always pulling that shit."
"Fuckin' sucks, Peggy. Bring me some water with a ton of ice." Handing her two brown glass bottles, he said, "Put these in the fridge for me and bring them out when my dinner comes."
The waitress's eyes widened as she looked sideways to the kitchen. "Are you crazy? I can't do that. If Ruthie catches me, I'm toast, and I need this job. You know the place doesn't have a liquor license."
"Then you better make sure Ruthie doesn't catch you." He leaned back, his head cocked to the side. "Be a good girl and do what I said."
She shifted her weight from one foot to another, and then her eyes lit up. "I know. I'll put them in one of my grocery bags. Ruthie won't suspect anything."
"Sweetheart, I don't give a damn how you do it, just fuckin' do it." He placed the two bottles in her hands. She smiled and then sashayed to the kitchen.
Throttle looked out the window, watching the cars pass by. The heat shimmered off the asphalt, and the leaves on the trees remained motionless; the heat from the day had melted into the dusk. A cherry-red Dodge pickup caught his attention as it turned into the diner's parking lot and secured a space in front. A man in a black cowboy hat jumped down before he rushed over to the passenger door and opened it. Throttle whistled under his breath as he saw a pair of tanned, shapely legs. The truck door and the cowboy blocked the woman's face, but if the rest of the chick matched her legs, he'd have to figure out a way to get to know her. He could easily see those gams around his waist.
"Here you go." Peggy placed his dinner salad and cup of dressing on the table, diverting his attention back to her. "Did you work hard today?"
Shaking black pepper on his salad, he nodded. "It was fuckin' hot out there today. Hell, it still is and the sun's getting ready to set."
"I heard it was ninety-eight."
"Wouldn't be surprised."
She licked her lips and leaned her thigh against the table. "Do the people you do work for ever invite you in to cool off?"
He glanced at her then threw her a half-smile. "Sometimes. Why?"
"I heard that you and your partner get a lot of housewives hitting on you. That's all." She shrugged. "Is that true?"
He mixed the dressing in his salad and took a big bite. "Us, the postman, the milkman, and probably the pizza guy. All the fuckin' stereotypes, you know?" He winked.
The truth was many of the women would invite them in for a cold drink and make a play for them. If the women were attractive and they weren't too busy, they'd accommodate her, but they worked as a team. None of the women complained, and even though they didn't hook up with most of their female customers, the word leaked out that the two buff men sometimes gave a free bonus. He and Rags would always laugh when they'd arrive at a job during the day and find the husband home sick for the day. Damn, if they didn't know better, the two bikers would've thought that Pinewood Springs was one of the unhealthiest towns in Colorado.
"Are you being funny, or are the rumors true?"
"Hire us. Then you'll find out for sure." He lifted his eyebrows.
At first she just stared at him, but then a wide grin spread across her face as she swatted his arm. "Oh, you. You're such a kidder." A hot rush of heat fell over his back as the diner's door opened. She pushed away from the table. "I gotta get this." She walked away, and he heard her say, "Can I help you?"
A male voice said, "A booth for two."
Throttle finished his salad as the couple ambled past him. He recognized the woman's sexy legs as the ones coming out of the cherry-red pickup. Shifting his glance upward, he took in her firm, high ass, and her glossy black hair with neon pink tips-What the fuck? He sat up straighter. It can't be. Those legs and that ass can't belong to her. Wait. She did have a cute ass in her fuckin' coveralls.
When the sexy-legged woman swung around and sat in the booth facing him, there was no mistaking her striking blue eyes-the ones that did weird shit to him, like making his dick twitch and his stomach tighten. Fuck. It is her. What the hell is Kimber doing with a goddamned cowboy? He grunted and watched as Peggy wrote on her pad, taking the couple's order. When she finished, Throttle motioned her over.
"You want some more salad, honey?"
"No. Bring me one of the beers." He jerked his head to the couple. "What's up with them?"
Peggy glanced over her shoulder, confusion etched on her face. "Them? I don't know ‘em. They're just customers."
"Are they holding hands?" he blurted out. Why the fuck am I asking that? What the hell's the matter with me?
"No. Why?"
Pissed at himself for asking such a wimpy-ass question, he clenched his jaw. "Get my beer." Looking away, he dismissed her.
"Okay." She shuffled to the kitchen.
Throttle pretended to be engrossed in the dessert menu, but his ears were pricked on Kimber and the cowboy's conversation. From the bits he could hear, he gathered they were on their first date. He watched her as she spoke, fascinated with the way her pink tongue skimmed over her front teeth before disappearing in her mouth. With the way her ebony hair framed her face, her flawless skin looked almost like porcelain. He wondered why he hadn't noticed that before. Her smoky makeup made her eyes more intense, and the gloss on her lips made them fuller and oh-so-tempting. For a split second, Throttle had the urge to go over to her table, yank her to him, and then suck and nip on her bottom lip before driving his tongue into her mouth.